


his guitar and her bar

by hookedphantom



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, it turned angsty because I wanted it to be long, this was just supposed to be cute I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hookedphantom/pseuds/hookedphantom
Summary: the Twissy bar AU that nobody asked for, wherein Missy owns a bar and Twelve is a musician.





	his guitar and her bar

Twelve lifted the guitar strap over his shoulder and carried it over to the bar stool. He sat down at the counter and Missy pushed a glass of whiskey down the bar to him. Everyone had left for the night, and Missy was wiping the counter with a bar rag. Twelve grinned and downed the whiskey.

“Am I paying tonight or did I play well enough?” He asked her, leaning his elbows on the place she had just wiped clean.

She gave his arms a little shove back off the counter and gave him a dark smile. “You always play well enough, honey. Same time next week?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want. You know, they never look much like they enjoy my music.”

Her smile brightened. “Well, bully for them. I own the bar, and I enjoy your music. Even the sad one, that you play over and over.”

His smile disappeared and his face fell. “I’m… so sorry about that. I just can’t get the melody out of my head and I’m not sure why…”

She tapped on the counter to indicate closing time. He lifted his guitar back over his head and grabbed his keys. She grabbed her jacket and purse. Instead of leaving before she locked up, this time, he waited for her.

“I’ll walk you home, Missy.” 

They exited the bar and as she turned to lock the door, she softly spoke. “Four months of playing in my bar, not accepting any payment but your single drink, and this is the first time you offer to walk me home.” 

His head lowered and he looked at the ground, the ghost of a smile dancing across his face. “Well, I’ve got Nardole at home, so.” 

“And? Nardole suddenly doesn’t need you tonight?” She smiled and slipped her hand into his as they headed towards her apartment. 

Twelve muttered something about Nardole never really needing him under his breath, but didn’t respond to her question. They walked in silence for quite some time, the only sound being Missy’s heels on the pavement, before Missy took a breath and looked at him, his profile even more appealing in the moonlight. “What kind of name is Twelve, then?” She inquired. 

A grin flitted across his face. “It isn’t, really. It’s just what they call me.” 

That was all he said. It was a good enough answer for Missy, he supposed. She didn’t inquire further. It was Twelve’s turn to break the silence, he figured. “You know, Missy, that place used to be a shithole. Previous owner didn’t really take care of it, cared more about breaking things than making them look nice and taking care of them. You took over, rebranded it, and cleaned it up. It’s really nice, now. You’ve done a good job.” 

She listened to his compliments with a smile on her face and closed her eyes. People didn’t really compliment Missy. 

The look on her face turned to one of sadness when they reached her apartment building. “Well, this is me. I’ll see you next week, Twelve.”

* * *

Twelve continued to walk Missy home after his gigs for the many weeks after that. It took him four weeks to get up the nerve for a goodnight kiss. 

It took her another four to invite him up to hers, and that was only because it was pouring rain and Missy didn’t want him to catch pneumonia. He slept on the couch.

* * *

It was two weeks after he had spent the night on her couch, and he didn’t show up for his gig. He didn’t show up the week after that, either. He didn’t answer her texts or her calls, and she didn’t really want to let him go, but. 

She hired a new musician. Beautiful girl with big, big hair, brown eyes, and the voice of an angel. Her name was Bill. She had a normal name, she accepted money instead of alcohol as payment, and never once walked Missy home.

* * *

She had stopped counting the weeks since his last appearance. She had accepted that he was dead, married, or just plain never coming back. 

Bill brought in more customers than Twelve did, anyways. 

She did, however, miss him. Her man with the funny name who only wanted whiskey as payment, who walked her home no matter what the weather was like, who held her hand like he never wanted to let it go.

* * *

It had been so long since he left. She let the bar fall into a sad state, it got dirty and she didn’t care as much as she used to. 

Missy had never realized that you could miss somebody like this. Miss someone so much that nothing matters if they’re gone. 

Even Angel voice Bill stopped coming. She had found a beautiful girl with an equally beautiful voice to tour the world with. Selling out arenas, stuff like that. Bill still spared her a thought, at least. Missy got the occasional text with selfies from places like Milan, Rome, and something that looked vaguely like the moon. 

“Miss you!” they always said, or “thanks for giving me my start. Without you, I wouldn’t be here.”

* * *

He showed up at closing one evening, just as Missy was designing “Sorry, we’re closing!” signs. 

She heard his voice before she saw him. 

“You never cared about closing time before.” 

Her breath caught in her throat and she looked up with tears in her eyes. 

“Closing for good. I can’t afford it anymore. I’m tired, Twelve, so tired. Where the hell were you?” 

He looked directly in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She gasped with anger, hitting him across the arm. “2 years, Twelve! What could make you disappear for 2 years? You left me! Alone!” 

He caught her arm, and held it close to him. 

“I’m sorry.”

She cut him off. “I don’t care, actually. I don’t care what made you disappear. I don’t care about why you left me alone, to fall into disrepair. We were friends.” She felt her eyes getting hot, and tears of anger welling up. 

“Missy. Forgive me. Please.” 

She glared at him. The tears were streaming down her face, and she didn’t care about wiping them away. 

She also knew, deep in her soul, that she would forgive him. No matter what. That’s what they were like. 

He reached out to wipe away the tears.   
She held out her hand. “Here. Walk me home.”

**Author's Note:**

> If people want, I can write a companion fic about why Twelve was gone for two years. I don't really have a reason for that yet, tbh.


End file.
